


Quid Pro Quo

by Gerec



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: Days of Future Past
Genre: Anal Sex, Gangbang, M/M, Pre-X-Men: Days of Future Past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 04:54:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17822294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gerec/pseuds/Gerec
Summary: Written for the prompt:While he's imprisoned in the Pentagon, some of the guards decide to punish/have "fun" with Erik.





	Quid Pro Quo

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [citrinesunset](https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrinesunset/pseuds/citrinesunset) in the [xmenrarepairs19](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/xmenrarepairs19) collection. 



> **Prompt:**  
>  While he's imprisoned in the Pentagon, some of the guards decide to punish/have "fun" with Erik.

It happens six months after he’s moved into his latest cell, into a concrete prison hundreds of floors beneath the Pentagon.

They keep him contained but always in view, a plastic cage under a glass ceiling, like a dangerous animal on exhibit at the zoo. There’s a rotation of guards – faceless, nameless and utterly interchangeable – to deliver his meals and take his waste, as eager to get away as he is to minimize each and every interaction. The only extended time spent in the company of others is once a week when he’s taken for a bath, where he’s left to soak in a plastic tub in a barren room, completely devoid of traditional plumbing.

The humans have learned the hard way, the damage he can do with even the slightest bit of metal.  

It’s bath day, like every Sunday since he’s been here, when the guards arrive outside his cell door. He does not expect to see more people than the usual two person escort, and his body tenses involuntarily at the break from routine. There’s no reason to expect the worst - for all that the humans despise and fear him he’s never suffered from beatings or torture since being incarcerated – and yet all of his senses are screaming ‘danger’ now, as the four guards enter his cell and crowd him in on all sides.

One of them moves before he can say anything, a punch to the solar plexus that knocks the wind out of his lungs and drops him to the ground. Immediately there are multiple sets of hands on him, grabbing him, rough but precise, dragging and then pinning him face down on his cot. Someone wrenches his right arm painfully behind his back, while another hand wraps around his neck, holding him in place as he tries to struggle, still gasping for breath. His pants and underwear are yanked clear off his legs before they too are pinned down, more hands forcing them wide to expose his body. He writhes and bucks hard but can’t break free of their hold, his prone position and the combined strength of his attackers too much to overcome.

He stops struggling when a finger breaches him, slick with something like petroleum jelly, pushing in and in and in…

They prep him thoroughly but carefully, loosening the tight muscle with patient fingers, taking without permission but unwilling to draw blood – less for his comfort no doubt, than to risk the need for medical attention. The room is eerily quiet but for the sound of it – the schlick, schlick of thick fingers probing and stretching and scissoring him open – the whole world narrowed down to nothing but _pressure_ and _sensation_ and _oh,_ _too much_ —

Someone shifts above him eagerly, caging him with muscle and the smell of cigarettes, arm wrapping around his chest and pulling their bodies flush. The parody of intimacy is unnerving, and serves to distract from the hard press of the cock leaking on his thigh. The man above him grunts then and starts pressing in, stealing his breath as he’s forced to take the length of it in one long, excruciating push. He feels flayed open, his eyes watering from the pain, and it’s only slightly better when the man pulls back, dragging what feels like half of his intestines with him on the way out.

He’s fucked, steadily but not harshly, though the hold they have on him stays firm and unyielding, pinning him immovable to the cot. The guard does not seem to be in any hurry to finish though, taking his time and filling him over and over as the others watch. They even maneuver him onto his knees to give the guard a better angle, and every new thrust rubs his spot _just so_ , until his own traitorous cock swells against the onslaught.

Another grunt, and the guard is coming, collapsing and pressing him down with a shudder.

Then he pulls out a few moments later, and switches places with one of the others.

The second man is rougher, and keen to wring every ounce of pleasure from him by pounding him mercilessly into the cot. He can feel the bruises forming on his hips from the hands that grip him tightly; feel his bones rattle as the guard slams his cock in and out with wild abandon, spearing him to pleasured moans and his own breathless gasps. He finishes much sooner than the first guard, uninterested in drawing things out, and grunts noisily when he comes, running greedy hands under his shirt and pinching his nipples with a pleased chuckle.

They stroke him, and make him come with a choked gasp, just as the third guard grunts and spurts his load.

By the time the fourth guard pushes in, they no longer need to hold him down.  

* * *

After, they escort him to his bath without a word, leaving him alone to scrub every inch of his skin and try to rinse all the collected spend from his sore and aching body.

He does not feel any cleaner, when he’s finished.

When he returns to the cell he finds a stack of books next to his cot, and a note that reads simply:

_Be good and they’ll be more._

 


End file.
